Just like with the fair and rodeo in the spring, the fall Rice Festival also holds a certain place in my heart.
I have many happy memories of unlimited armbands being $10 and rides that seemed like they could touch the sky along with carnival workers trying to shout over the din.
Sounds that depend on the ride, music, or electrical generator being used could leave your ears ringing when you get too close.
And the scents – funnel cakes, cotton candy, fresh squeezed lemonade, and a unique blend of generator fumes or gasoline that includes, when the wind drifts just right; livestock.
Over the years I have seen many attractions come and go.
But, there are old standards and standbys that guarantee people lining up.
The Ferris wheel, Tilt-A-Whirl, swing riders, and, of course, the carousel always had the longest lines.
Other rides required riders to be a certain height or were limited to smaller children.
Some, like the house of mirrors or “haunted” house, were geared towards silly fun and didn’t count as a ride to me.
My favorites seem to be hit or miss, depending on the year and availability.
A few of my fondest memories revolve around bumper cars, the “Double Shock” ride, and actually getting stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel.
Unfortunately, the older I’ve gotten, the less I’m able to ride because space just gets too cramped.
Plus, I might end up riding with that one kid too tall for their age and squishing them into the side of any ride that spins.
Centrifugal force is nearly impossible to hold off – kind of like gravity.
The booths inside the arena hold my attention more now than ever since they are usually full of people I know.
But, as a kid, my parents knew those manning the vendor spots and I was just dragged along to be cute and occasionally seen and not heard.
Once upon a time, the Rice Festival used to fall on the weekend closest to my birthday.
And that was one of my gifts - an armband for unlimited rides, maybe some greasy carnival food, and the chance to drag my sister along on rides she didn’t want to go on.
Now, I remember the nights spent out at the Rice Festival with fondness and a heavy heart.
It’s unfortunate to be an adult with starving nostalgia that begs for one more go.
One more ride up to the top of the Ferris wheel – one more spin on the Tilt-A-Whirl.
I suppose if I had children of my own it would be a different story, but I don’t.
This saves me from having to buy more than one armband because anything over $20 seems to be pretty ridiculous.
There’s my silver lining and motivation; less is more and hopefully, I won’t end up standing in line forever.
I’m going to enjoy the carnival and festival this year and hopefully relive some of those memories now that my leg is healed.
Worst case scenario I go home early and spend time with mom and dad watching some scary movies.
Either way, it’s a win-win.
